


Blue Isn't Green No Matter How You Look At It

by Neekou



Series: Blue & Green [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Dancing, Drabble, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, I love them so much, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, been havin the feels lately, cryptic kakashi is cryptic, i need to get back into the kakasaku fandom, kakasaku - Freeform, obvi, will definitely continue this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 07:37:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17845166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neekou/pseuds/Neekou
Summary: Sakura stared at him for a moment, curiosity growing between them. “ You understand the rules, don’t you? “ Her hand remains curled in his despite her question, tinted in the slightest accusation. While her words pressed him, her tone remained as warm as her greeting a few moments prior.A short chuckle, more mirth than anything else. “ I do. “





	Blue Isn't Green No Matter How You Look At It

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a fictitious festival where participants draw little colored pieces of paper and choose dance partners with the same color. Like a weird little shinobi mixer. That's literally it.

    She looks to his outstretched hand, brow furrowing in the slightest inclination of her curiosity. With eyes bright, Sakura meets his gaze in equal parts surprise and confusion. His own, coal and intent, do not give sway. Her fingers slowly find his, as if expecting something other than the calloused touch of his bare palm. She’s absently grateful for the warmth of his hand against hers, though no part of Sakura consciously recognizes the emotion as such. Instead, lips perk at the corners, and she dares to speak. It was easy as she remembered.

    “Did you draw green, Sensei?" His moniker falls effortlessly from her lips despite his time as her equal. Quickly, she admonishes with a dip of her chin downwards, a tint across cheekbones that she’d more likely blame on the warmth in the air. “Kakashi. Still getting used to it," she admits, nose wrinkling a tiny bit in apology.

    He doesn’t seem bothered by it, eyes crinkled ever so slightly at the edges. Kakashi is silent for a moment or two, as though reveling in the intimate atmosphere. The lights, dancing as they shift with the quiet wind, glint patches across his unkempt mane and cast gentle shadows across his face, still masked. He looked as though he’d taken off his vest and walked out the door, but his darkened visage only piqued her interest further.

    “I drew blue,“ and even he is surprised in his quick admission.

    Sakura stared at him for a moment, curiosity growing between them. “You understand the rules, don’t you?“ Her hand remains curled in his despite her question, tinted in the slightest accusation. While her words pressed him, her tone remained as warm as her greeting a few moments prior.

    A short chuckle, more mirth than anything else. “I do.“

    She laughs with him, though her emotions play across her expression like an open book between strong fingers, pages creased with affectionate misuse. Despite this, she does not press him for a further answer. Instead, her gaze roves to the small crowd around them, mostly paired towards the end of the evening. A few of the others had turned in already, but she isn’t particularly surprised by their lack of vigor. Many of the festival’s participants were well beyond her own age group, yet she still managed to recognize a few. Sakura had danced with two others - Lee and Neji mostly, the former largely at his own insistence. Not that she had minded much, given they had both pulled green and she found a strange comfort in his exuberance. The brevity of their interaction brought a small bit of excitement back into her evening, and she was grateful to see them both.

    The music, sweetly somber against the lull in conversation, brings her back to her dance partner. Despite their familiarity, Sakura finds that her voice dies in her throat as she turns to meet him again. His gaze has not wavered from her, though something within it has softened ever so slightly. She’s not sure what she expects to see there, but that does not stop her from searching. She swallows audibly.

    “I never expected you to show up to something like this," Sakura admits, yet a part of her is not sure why she feels the need to comment. “No offense. I’m sure you’ve been busy - I just don’t think I’ve seen you at any of the other festivals this year.“

    “I’ve been around,“ Kakashi replies cryptically - and ever so like him.

    She snorts in something akin to indignance, shrugging off his reply as if his aloof nature didn’t sometimes prod beneath her skin. Surely he was passionate about something in his life - enough to drag him out of his apartment and out among the people of Konohagakure. Dancing, she imagined, was not one such passion. She was never one to judge, however, and allowed Kakashi whatever pleasantries he could from their encounter. Perhaps he had nothing better to do - but even Sakura found it difficult to believe that he’d voluntarily go.

    Without much of a warning, apart from the ever so slight straightening of his back, he takes a small step forward to prompt Sakura to follow. His free hand finds its way to her right hip, settling as though it had been there many times before. Her surprise is thinly veiled, lips parted with a quiet puff of air. Kakashi’s fingers easily twine between hers, finding no resistance in pliable hands. Slowly, almost unsurely, her own travels between them to rest on his shoulder. Despite the thick fabric of his undershirt, his warmth was very present against the palm of her hand. Fingers curl to grasp at him a little tighter, albeit on their own.

    He was taller than she remembered, but she’d never spent any amount of time so close to him in the past. Her mind wanders with her gaze, easily lost as he offered little conversation as they swayed. There was something inherently intimate about the way he moved her, as if standing just a little too close - as though holding her just a little too tightly. Sakura hadn’t the mind to comment, oddly mesmerized by practiced movements she did not expect to find in him. She observes the creases at the corners of his eyes more prevalent than she remembered, the slightest furrow in his brow now permanent against pale skin. Idly, Sakura wonders if he feels scrutinized under her gaze, but he gives no indication. She speaks her mind.

    “Do your smiles ever meet your lips?“

    His step does not falter, though he has the decency to seem surprised by her question. It was his turn to be curious, “Why do you ask?“

    Her shrug was fairly instantaneous, as if to draw the attention away from the dusting of pink from her cheeks. She could feel its warmth as she glanced at his chest. It was an odd question to ask him, “I was just wondering if you had laugh lines.“ She’s brushing the question under the figurative rug, cursing silently for her rampant lack of tact.

    She could feel the shoulder beneath her fingers shake slightly in laughter, a low rumble in the small space between swaying bodies. Sakura couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard him laugh like that. Furthermore, she didn’t notice as the song switched to a tempo slower than the last, and fell easily into the second rhythm Kakashi set for her. Her complete rapture was not lost on him, though he again made no comment to dispel her.

    “You’ve never seen my face,“ he points out, not unkindly. Her lips , already parted in surprise at his laughter, pout ever so slightly. Before she can interject, Kakashi’s eyes crinkle into a private smile. “I suppose you could say I do. Does that help you paint a picture?"

    Her indignance is not as veiled this time and she squeezes his shoulder in protest. While she and the others respected his wish for privacy, that didn’t mean she needed to be happy about it. This time, Sakura doesn’t dignify him with a response. Her sudden and visceral reaction only coaxes further laughter from within his chest - and despite her annoyance, she’s grateful for the noise. His time as Hokage had obviously aged him, though Sakura was keenly aware he would never admit to it. Perhaps that was the reason he came tonight. Did he seek her out to help him remember simpler times? She didn’t dare prod him again.

    Instead, she feigned annoyance for a moment or two longer before meeting his eyes again, for the first time in what felt like an evening. His expression was infuriatingly unreadable behind cloth, though Sakura had grown to decipher the expansive range in his gaze. She still wasn’t sure what she saw there, but it brought a warm tinge to her cheeks despite this. Surely she couldn’t spend the entire night with her foot in her mouth - not that she didn’t believe Kakashi wouldn’t be tickled at the prospect.

    “Have you danced with anyone else tonight?“ She could distract him with another question to quell the steady thrum of her pulse. It would only take a moment or two.

    “No,“ Kakashi offers evenly, drawing only further confusion. Yet again, he does not care to elaborate. Her jaw sets and now she’s nearly positive he’s trying to rile her. Not that she’ll give him any more satisfaction than she already had tonight.

    “Couldn’t find any other blues, I take it?“

    He doesn’t answer her, though something in his eyes shifts imperceptibly. The intensity nearly causes her to fidget, but she squashes the impulse in favor of matching his gaze. Whatever he saw there seemed to satisfy something within him; the fabric of his mask moved against his lips, creating the slightest indentation of a smirk. He looked oddly smug, or so she assumed.

    “Keep your secrets," She begrudged him half-heartedly, glancing at the band as they announced their final song for the evening, as though breaking out of a daze. The moon hung high in the sky and the stars shone brightly on the backdrop of empty sky. Sakura finds herself lamenting how quickly this night had passed before pulling herself back into the present.

    She says nothing as she’s drawn closer to match the quiet beat around them. A slow dance for lovers, the band had said, though neither had paid them any heed. While he does not prompt her, her head nestles lightly against his collarbone. He smelled pleasantly familiar. The hand perched on his shoulder moves to twist around his waist, furling into the thick fabric at the middle of his spine, just beneath his shoulder blades. Seamlessly, the fingers splayed on her hip move to the small of her back, drawing them both just a little bit closer. His chin is pressed against the top of her head. She can hear his heartbeat war against the music’s tempo - so wildly intimate against her cheek.

    Slowly, inevitably, the song comes to a close. She lingers against him for a moment or two after it was over before taking a tentative step backwards. Her hand drops from his back, but she does not miss that he hasn’t released her. Any step she takes is met with resistance. He’s looking at her, still unreadable. Her mouth is dry, she discovers, as she tries to speak.

    “Thank you for the dance," Sakura manages, indignance far from her tone. If she hadn’t been blushing already, her cheeks would have warmed at the sincerity in her own voice. Slowly, his fingers uncurl from hers, and in one fluid movement, both hands are in his pockets. They both sense the couples around them dispersing without looking away.

    “It was good to see you, Sakura." His reply rang with its own truth. A part of Sakura felt privileged to have elicited such response from him. She would ruminate on that later, when he wasn’t standing so close. She forces a small smile across her features, brow furrowed the tiniest bit. The second step she takes away from him helps clear her mind. The crisp night air no longer smells of Kakashi.

    “You too. I’ll see you around?“ And she let the question hang in the air between them for a moment before offering another, albeit more hopeful smile. His eyes crinkle as he turned away to head home.

    “Goodnight, Kakashi,“ She calls after him, greeting the sudden stillness with unease. This time, his silence was its own answer. With a hand clutched lightly at her chest, she watches as he pads down the emptying street.

    “Goodnight," Kakashi returns over his shoulder, though he doesn’t turn back.


End file.
